Oblivion Episode 3 - Everybody Hates Windmills
by Gabriel Seraph
Summary: This story is inspired by Organization XIII. Great liberties have been taken with names, places, etc. in order to create as original a story as possible. Tim is happy to join his new friends' rock band, the Lethal Tomatoes, but their first "gig" may be in jeopardy as an environmentalist display by their sponsors, the Green Club, causes a huge controversy. AU, with some OC's.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This episode of _Oblivion_ picks up the story where Episode 1 ("The New Kid") left off. For this reason, I strongly advise you to read that story first, because otherwise you will probably be completely lost. (Reading Episode 2, "Both Sides of the Story," is not as necessary, although it is still recommended.)

Episode 3 - "Everybody Hates Windmills"

Chapter 1

Saturday afternoon, 1:30pm. Tim had just finished lunch, and so he grabbed his guitar case and walked up Carver Boulevard to Bobby's house. The garage door was open and Bobby and Ashley were already there, their instruments at the ready.

Tim took a few seconds to admire Bobby's black-and-white Gibson bass guitar. "Nice one," said Tim.

"Yours ain't half-bad, either," said Bobby, nodding towards Tim's blue Yamaha. "I'd ask you to show us how it's done now, but that'd be unfair to Tara."

"Yeah, where is she?" asked Tim.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "She's the fashionable one of us, so she's always late. Bless her little heart," she added, dripping sarcasm the way Roman candles drip sparks as she twirled her ebony drumstick between her fingers.

"So, does this band have a name or what?" asked Tim.

"Lethal Tomatoes!" crowed Tara, who had just arrived and taken her place behind the keyboard.

"Yeah, and we desperately need a new guitarist - and a singer, because we just got our first real gig, if you can call it that," added Bobby. "It's Rush Week this week. No, not Rush the band, which is just too bad. All the clubs are, uh, recruiting. The Green Club has a nice little gimmicky thing they're doing at the front of the school, they want us to be there to play every day this week."

"We don't actually need a singer, really," said Ashley, but it would be very nice if we did. So, sorry to really put you on the spot there, but you're kinda doing a double audition today."

"Anything in particular you want?" asked Tim.

"Anything goes," said Bobby. "We're a cover band, and we specialize in pretty much everything. So, go for it. The crazier the better."

Tim took a breath, and after a second started launching into the refrain of his new favorite song, which he had just heard for the first time on _Saturday Night Live_ a week earlier. It would have been better to play it on bass, but it was still impressive enough on the regular guitar, and the vocals, loud, high, and theatrical, were a challenge Tim rose to easily. He didn't get to sing often, especially not in front of others, so he had lots of fun singing the chorus to "Panic Station."

Bobby, Tara, and Ashley all looked at each other. "Well? How'd I do?" asked Tim.

"Well," drawled Bobby, "maybe if we Auto-Tune your mike..."

Ashley laughed. "He's just kidding! You know, we should have filmed this and put it on YouTube. Maybe Matt Bellamy and the guys from Muse would see it and take notice."

"Yeah!" chimed in Tara. "At least you don't have a speech impediment."

"Matt Bellamy has a speech impediment?" Tim asked. "I never noticed."

"Yeah, he tends to do the Elmer Fudd thing sometimes, said Bobby. "Like on 'Time Is Running Out,' sometimes he says 'fweedom,' stuff like that. You do just the opposite. Kinda overenunciate a bit, but then again it's perfect for theatrical-type singing. It's just what we need."

"So I do have a speech impediment, sort of," said Tim. "But hey, if Muse doesn't care about the singer not pronouncing things exactly right, neither should we!"

"Right on," said Ashley. "Let's practice a few more songs for Monday. You think you can join in with us, Tim?"

"Depends," said Tim. "I'm a little more reliable with vocals than the guitar. Like, I've memorized more lyrics than chord progressions, you know what I mean?"

"We understand," said Tara. "Just do your best and you should be fine. Hasn't failed me yet."

After two hours of practice, the Lethal Tomatoes packed up and went home. Tim went upstairs to his room, and with another insistent rhythm stuck in his head, he started playing another recent Muse hit - "Madness." But just as he finished replicating the opening synth riff, his guitar strings vibrated hard, and the guitar rippled in his hands. Suddenly, the neck and strings elongated, until it made itself into a bass. He looked at it with shock, then played the exact same riff over again. This time, the instrument mutated into a cello. He soon discovered that he could change his guitar into any stringed instrument he could think of just by playing the "Madness" synth riff. It even assumed the form of some instruments he'd never heard of before, like a Chinese erhu. And yet, thanks to his synesthesia, all he had to do was experiment a bit with the strings (he already had a bow, since he'd dabbled in violin playing for a while during his freshman year and had kept it with him so he could try out bowed guitar playing) until the notes assembled in the right order and color in his vision field, so he could change the instrument's shape again.

As he regained the shape of his original guitar, Axel and Rocky walked in. They were just in time to see the guitar resume its form from its previous shape, that of a violin. Rocky gaped at him, and Tim saw that his little brother's hands were glowing white. He frowned. "The surprises just keep on coming, don't they?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tim and Rocky looked at each other in shock. The former was stunned to learn that he and Axel weren't the only ones developing strange powers seemingly at random, at the same time. _Random on purpose?_ Tim thought to himself.

He spoke up to his brothers as he put his guitar back in its case. "Okay, who's willing to shell out the dough for a Geiger counter?"

"It probably won't do any good," said Axel. "'Cause if it was radiation, wouldn't all the rest of the houses be poisoned or something?"

"How would we know?" said Tim. "We never talk to any of the neighbors, ever."

"Speaking of which..." Axel turned to Rocky. "You do realize you're not supposed to tell anyone about this, right? We're not in a comic book. In the real world, if people catch you with glowing hands like that, you're gonna get thrown in some padded cell somewhere in Area 51 and get put through anti-radiation treatment or something."

Rocky sighed. "I get it already. I may be just a freshman, but I can handle living in the big wide world better than you think."

Axel rolled his eyes.

Rocky sneered. "Really, I get it. Not another soul."

"Promise?" asked Tim.

Rocky chewed his bottom lip. "Well, maybe if I put it on YouTube and Victoria Justice saw it-"

While Axel fell over laughing, Tim said, "No. Strange as your...ability...is, it's really not worth pursuing your celebrity crush. Sorry, little guy."

"Don't call me that," griped Rocky.

* * *

-October 14-

Monday morning, 6am. As part of the Green Club's front-of-the-school display, the Lethal Tomatoes had been asked to arrive early so they could perform for kids as they arrived at school for the one hour before first period. So Tim was forced to wake up extremely early, down his breakfast at hyper-speed, and walk across the street before sunrise so he could join the rest of the band, who were busily setting up around the base of the flagpole. The wind blew across the grounds, scattering fallen leaves and cypress needles everywhere.

The Green Club representatives, led by Xion Claymore and her mother, were installing their display on the wide stone triangle that formed the base of the flagpole. It was a small windmill with shiny glass solar-type panels for blades. Xion was holding one blade in gloved hands (to prevent fingerprint smudging) so it wouldn't spin in the high winds, and also to support it while Linda Claymore plugged in the amplifier for Bobby's bass. Tim held out the plug for his own amp, and Linda added it to the outlet on the side of the mini-windmill. It was then that he noticed that the only plugs connecting to the windmill were those of the two amps, and Tara's keyboard. No other power cables emerged from the windmill to plug into any external outlet.

Tim had to ask. "So, Xion, this windmill of yours - it's gonna power all our music?"

"Yep," said Xion brightly. "For ninety minutes a day, for five days. We got prime real estate here, and we sure as hell ain't wasting it!"

Linda looked askance at Xion but otherwise gave no reaction to her daughter's (mild) language. _Lucky her_, Tim thought. _My mom would probably reprimand me in front of everybody._

"So, did you all learn the song we agreed on?" asked another Green Clubber.

"'Take It Back,' right? Yeah," said Ashley. "Tim, are you good with that one?"

"It's the Pink Floyd song, right?" asked Tim. "I know that one like the back of my hand. Words and chords."

"Perfect!" cheered Tara. "We got this in the bag!"

At exactly 6:30, with one hour to go until first period and the first wave of students starting to arrive, Xion let go of the windmill and walked away to let the wind start spinning it. Tim and Bobby crossed over to their amps and successfully turned them on. "It works!" crowed Bobby, to loud cheers from the Green Club, who sat on the sidelines as Tara led the Lethal Tomatoes into "Take It Back." The pleasant, love-song-like melody was the first thing that hit the listener's ear, but if one cared to pay close attention to the lyrics one would be able to pick up on environmentalist messages buried within the subtext.

The first few students to come in were happy to be greeted in song, and gladly took the offered leaflets from the Green Club (printed on twice-recycled paper, of course.) But with the second wave, things started going sour for the musicians and their environmentalist sponsors. A number of kids walked by and started booing them over the sounds of the music. One said, "You wanna protect the earth? Start by eliminating windmills!"

"Yeah!" yelled another. "You'd rather slice up birds than generate proper electricity?"

The band stopped playing as a third student, a tall goth girl, cried out, "Slice up birds, ha! I thought you Green Clubbers were supposed to be vegans or some shit! And you bring in a cheap band with crappy old 80s music to try and sell it to everyone!"

"You pretentious pricks you, I hope you kids see what a silly waste of resources this is." This one actually came from a teacher, a mid-height man with a slightly nasal, Patton Oswalt-like voice that screamed "sarcastic asshat."

The Lethal Tomatoes and the Green Clubbers exchanged glances. Apparently nobody had expected to suffer such rude backlash so soon. While it was definitely the worst of the lot, and the rest of the arriving students were at least considerate towards the Green Club and their display, by first period everyone involved in the display was being publicly harassed by classmates from that second wave. It was especially painful for Tara because she happened to take English from that same teacher, and he lost no time in belittling her for "selling out to the hippies" in front of the whole class, many of whom were also in the second wave and laughed at her with the teacher. (Considering that they were all _Glee_ fans and had even formed their own politically correct glee club, complete with Auto-Tuned mikes, the irony was not lost on anyone in the small minority of non-Gleeks.) At lunchtime, Tara walked into the library and collapsed, sobbing, into Tim's arms, clearly very overwhelmed by what had happened to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

While Tim tried his best to comfort Tara, within minutes of her arrival the rude English teacher came in carrying a copy of _I Am Number Four_. He approached the librarian and said, "I am finished. This book was a great one, and I really hope you have the-" He stopped as he spotted Tara, with her tear-streaked face. "Oh. You again. Buck up, little girl. It's not like it's the first time we the class have roasted you."

"Roasted?" the librarian asked. "What-?"

"You know, like _Comedy Central Roast of Charlie Sheen_," said the teacher.

Tim spoke up at this point. "I don't know much about comedy, but even I know that roasting is only roasting if it's done in good humor. Somehow I don't think that was good humor you used in your 'roast.'"

The teacher sneered. "What would you know, ya dweeb? Insulting people for laughs always is rude. Everybody knows that. It's a fact of life."

"You've got good taste in books-" Tim gestured to the book the teacher had placed on the counter - "but everything else about your taste is worse than poor. If that's even possible. When you insult a girl so bad she starts crying, clearly you're doing something wrong."

"Well, I'm not paid nearly enough to care about the feelings of my students," said the teacher. "Get with the program already, you brainless, holier-than-thou limpdick. And that includes you and your so-called "band" - if you can call it that, you guys have about as much talent as the Jonas Brothers - abandoning that god-awful windmill display."

"Jimmy!" cried the librarian. "I know you've got a rude reputation, but I'm still surprised at you. If that's not a new low, even for you, I don't know what would be."

"Jimmy" looked down his nose at everyone behind the table. "There's always going to be another new low for me. But I will always consider it a new high. That's all that matters." He turned on his heel and left.

"My God, Tara," said Tim. "I'm so sorry."

Tara sniffed. "I don't deserve your sorry. I'm smarter than this. I should've transferred to another class when I had the chance. Mr. Necker is a complete and utter asshole, everyone knows that. You can only survive the class if you're a complete and utter asshole yourself. That's what those glee-club freaks are like. They talk about tolerance and accepting everyone all the time, but everyone knows it's bullshit. They just take on anyone who's different to pump up their image. We've all heard the horror stories all the time, but nobody's ever done anything to stop it."

The pumpkin-shaped Halloween bells on the door rang as three people walked in - Ashley, Bobby, and Xion. Ashley and Bobby walked behind the desk to join Tim and Tara in a big group hug, while Xion stayed outside and repeatedly tapped the screen on her cell phone. After a minute, she said, "Okay guys, come take a look at this." She held out her phone so the others could look at it and see the online flier she had created and attached to the Ojo de Cielo High web page.

**SUPPORT THE GREEN CLUB!**

Today we have been unfairly attacked and harassed by our own schoolmates for the crime of supporting the environment.

Even by teachers.

Imagine.

If you are against this idea of disruptive and harmful protesting, join us at the flagpole this week from 6:30 to 7:30 every morning, and help us stage our counter-protest.

Live music will be provided by our friends and supporters, the Lethal Tomatoes. They have also been unfairly attacked and harassed, and they do not condone this behavior any more than we do.

"And...submit," said Xion. "Let's see what happens to those planet-killing victimizers now! Also, you guys can play pretty much everything you want, but here's a few songs we'd really like you to work in at least once this week." Xion tapped her phone to show a notepad on which she had written:

-"Uprising" - Muse

-"We're Not Gonna Take It" - Twisted Sister

-"American Idiot" - Green Day (censorship optional)

Tim nodded his approval. "I like it. Green Club not afraid to get dirty, are they?"

"Definitely not," said Bobby.

"Sounds like a plan," said Ashley.

Tara sniffed once again, before declaring to the ceiling, "Suck it, Mr. Necker!" Everyone laughed, even the librarian. The kids all looked at her in shock, and she explained, "I agree, his idea of 'roasting' is just too much. Jimmy Necker is a perfect example of why the education system in this country is hopelessly screwed over. If we can't fire abusive teachers like him..."

Xion turned to Tara. "You know, my mom works in the legal department at one of those big techno-corps down in the Valley. I'm sure she could get us in touch with a really good lawyer who could take our case. She knows a lot of them, and they all have, like, 80% conviction rates."

Tim smiled. "Abusive teachers, look out. You're about to get served!" This was enough to trigger yet another collective fit of laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

-October 16-

Tuesday morning, 6:30am. Most unbelievably, the online flier that Xion had posted on the Ojo de Cielo High web page had attracted a large number of counter-protesters to the flagpole and the mini-windmill while the Lethal Tomatoes geared up to play. Rocky had gotten up early to join in, as did Lucien, who had somehow found the time to make a wooden picket sign. Painted white with green letters, it read "WE CAN DEMONSTRATE AS MUCH AS WE WANT, BECAUSE WE'RE NOT WAGING PSYCHOLOGICAL WAR FOR NO DAMN REASON!" The first wave of arriving students formed such a massive throng of counter-protesters that they nearly blocked the entrance gates. By the time the second wave, now unofficially known as the Planet Killers (after Xion's off-the-cuff comment from the day before), arrived, the entrance gate was rendered completely impassable, much to the annoyance of late arrivals who were forced to walk all the way around to the other side of the massive building just to get inside.

Once the Planet Killers began their jeers, the Lethal Tomatoes, right on cue, launched into "American Idiot." They had agreed not to censor the song's explicit lyrics, in order to better put out their message of "We didn't do anything to you, so stop treating us like shit." Tim actually said this right before the song began, to further underline the point he and his friends were making.

The wind, which was just as strong as it had been 24 hours earlier, blew against the windmill's blades, continuing to power the amps and keyboard. While Tim sang, he thought, not for the first time, how much of a lucky coincidence it was that the Green Club was putting out their display when the weather was perfect for it. It was especially fortuitous because the wind had died down to almost nothing within minutes of the school day beginning yesterday.

Unlike yesterday, the presence of counter-protesters allowed for the harassment of the Green Clubbers and the Lethal Tomatoes to be alleviated, somewhat. At least Tara wasn't reduced to tears by Mr. Necker's horrific idea of a roasting for a second day in a row, although it helped that he hadn't really been able to develop any new material to sling in her general direction. Not to mention, the small minority of non-Gleeks, non-Necker fans, had banded together as Green Club counter-protesters, and fixed Necker with a simultaneous killer stink eye the second he opened his mouth.

As Tim went home, though, he stuck his finger in his mouth and waved it around in the air. No wind, again. _So weird,_ he thought. _Just that one hour, each morning. Is the weather around here broken, or what?_ He entered the house and helped Rocky paint his own picket sign. "IF YOU REALLY DON'T WANT THE LETHAL TOMATOES, THEN HOWSABOUT SOME ROTTEN ONES INSTEAD?"

"Rotten ones?" asked Tim, apprehensively.

Rocky pointed to a vacuum-sealed Plexiglas box full of squished, dried-up red fruits. "Not really rotten, but we don't wanna make anyone sick. Even if they deserve it."

"Where'd you get 'em?" Tim paused. "No, scratch that. I don't wanna know."

-October 17-

Wednesday morning, 7am. Half an hour of protests and counter-protests led to another complete blockage of the entrance gates. Once again, the wind blew everything right and left. (This time, Tim had watched the weather report before leaving - it explicitly stated that wind speeds were no higher than two miles an hour in any area, and totally calm in Blancoville. But Tim was grateful for whatever freakish meteorological fluke was powering the windmill, because it at least allowed him and the rest of the band to play like usual.) Rocky held up his box of tomato carcasses while Xion held the sign he and Tim had made, and when one Planet Killer tried to take it from him, Rocky said, "I'll let the wind blow it in your face if you don't get back!" Clearly fearful for his health, the protester backed away. As the 7:30 warning bell rang, the Lethal Tomatoes high-fived each other and the Green Clubbers, congratulating themselves on a job well done.

However, the happy atmosphere was not going to last. During third period, an important-looking kid, claiming to be an office assistant, handed Tim and Ashley's English teacher a slip of paper. She turned to them and said, "Tim, Ashley - looks like the principal wants you. Guess you gotta go."

Tim and Ashley exchanged glances, and left the room, with the teacher calling, "Fight the power!"as the door closed behind them.

Outside the principal's office, the other two Lethal Tomatoes were sitting, along with Xion and another Green Clubber. "What's going on?" asked Tim.

"I think the principal is gonna try and settle this once and for all," said Xion. "Mr. Necker and that goth girl from the Planet Killers are in there right now. Bet they're being roasted."

But if the two Planet Killers' disposition upon exiting the principal's office was anything to go by, just the opposite had happened. Mr. Necker and the goth girl were chortling and even high-fiving. The Lethal Tomatoes' and Green Clubbers' sense of dread rose as the secretary called, curtly, "The principal will see you now."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The principal looked up from his desk (on which a fancy brass name plate read "Matthew Cyrus") and said "Come on in" as the Lethal Tomatoes and Green Clubbers entered. Xion and the other Green Clubber (whose name Tim had not yet learned) took the two seats in front of the principal's desk, while the Tomatoes leaned against the wall in the absence of any other place to sit. Cyrus finished typing something on his computer, then pressed a button, presumably to put the computer to sleep, and turned to the six students.

"Well, well," he said. "Who knew a little display of clean green power would cause such a flaming red fire around this beautiful school?"

Everyone blinked.

The principal looked down at his desk, thumbed a stapled set of papers briefly, seemingly nervously, then put them away. Tim had just enough time to catch a split-second glimpse of some kind of blueprint - marked "Ojo de Cielo Springs" - before it was shut away in Cyrus' desk drawer. He turned back to the kids and continued. "I certainly didn't, otherwise I wouldn't have approved of your Rush Week idea, Miss Claymore, Mr. Ravenwood." He was being extremely, almost excessively, polite. _Just like Dad when someone's really pissing him off_, Tim thought worriedly.

"But the fact remains, you did approve of it," pointed out Ravenwood.

"Enough, Marcus," said Cyrus, lazily waving his hand in a sort of "Jedi-mind-trick" gesture more typical of bored teenagers than high-ranking school officials. "I'm sure you know that under our _beloved_ Bill of Rights" - the sarcasm could not be any more obvious - "you can raise just as much protesting hell as you wish, but if you're being disruptive in the process, well then goodbye demonstration or else you're in violation of the law!" He smiled maniacally.

"Excuse me?" cried Xion. "You're saying _we're_ the disruptive ones? Who started attacking who first?"

"Grammar, young lady," chided Cyrus. "I think your English teacher needs to get a pay cut, because clearly they're not doing their job."

"Well, then Mr. Necker can expect a surprise in his next paycheck, right?" asked Xion.

"So you're one of those hopeless cases Jimmy's always groaning on about," said Cyrus. "Forget that. He deserves a raise, out of sympathy for having to deal with anti-social, anti-establishment freaks like yourself."

Tara jumped to her feet in anger. "How dare you!" she yelled. "Necker is completely unfit to teach! He gathers up half the class as his 'friends,' tells them these boring platitudes about tolerance and political correctness like it's just another episode of _Glee _but without the lousy bubblegum pop, and then starts treating the other half of us like...like animals! I'm one from the other half too! He insulted me so much in front of everyone that I spent the next hour crying! In public! Do you have any idea-"

Cyrus raised his finger. "I think I do. You are clearly a whiny, entitled little bitch and you deserve whatever you got. It's official now, Jimmy Necker is getting a bonus for every holiday for the rest of his time teaching here. It's the least I can do to compensate for the crapload of bad students he's gotten this year."

Bobby joined in the argument. "Look, Mr. Cyrus, you have to get out of bed with Necker and understand, we're being victimized here, we're the ones being verbally abused-"

"Need I remind you that you and your band performed songs with explicit and inappropriate language on school grounds?" asked Cyrus. "Need I remind you of the inappropriate language printed on your club's picket signs?"

The Lethal Tomatoes sighed. He had them there.

Cyrus smiled. "I'm in a generous mood today, so I'll let you all off with a warning - on one condition. No more copyright-infringing musical performances, no more counter-protests, no more divisive windmill display. Otherwise, I will disband the Green Club and have every single member suspended, and I will recommend expulsion for the six of you to the school board. Are we clear?"

Xion sighed miserably. "Clear," she said.

"Good," Cyrus said, clapping his hands. "You're free to go. Don't tell Mr. Necker about the surprise yet!" He tapped his keyboard again as they left.

Tim turned to Xion. "What the hell? Why'd you give up so easily?"

Xion whispered to everyone else, "I'm not giving up. Listen, you saw that piece of paper he put away, right?" Tim nodded. "Well, rumor has it that the school was built on the site of these old hot springs that were said to have healing powers. It's where the school gets its name from, they called the springs _El Ojo de Cielo_, the Eye of Heaven. If those blueprints are anything to go by...well, according to the rumor, the springs just stopped running for no reason about forty years ago, right before they started building the school. If I'm right, somebody damaged the natural flow of the springs on purpose so they could have a site to build on."

"So you're saying the school was built by anti-environmentalists?" asked Ashley.

"It's true," Marcus Ravenwood said. "My family's lived in this town for a hundred years, and my grandparents used to swim in the springs every summer. I think it's why there's these random pockets of mud that pop up all over the campus, even in the middle of summer when it hasn't rained in three months. It's 'cause the water is trapped underground and it's trying to get out. Like, if there was a plug in a volcano, the lava's gotta find another way to escape."

"If we can obtain a copy of that blueprint," said Xion, "maybe we can discredit the admin for covering it up, and that'll be a perfect stepping stone for putting a stop to all the Planet Killers - especially Necker."

"So, what do we do?" asked Bobby.

"Come to my house tonight, 6:00," said Xion, writing the address down on a slip of paper so everyone could enter it into their phones. "We're gonna make some plans to put an end to Matthew Cyrus and his prime assbuttery. Bring your laptops if you can, too."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

At exactly 6pm, Rocky and Tim walked up the street to the Claymore townhouse, waving to Marley Flowers as they passed her (she was on her porch, watering her roses.) Bobby, Ashley, Tara and Marcus were already inside, their laptops opened up to the same web page about the history of Blancoville and the Ojo de Cielo Springs. Rocky looked over Xion's shoulder and read the web page before saying, "So they blocked up these healing hot springs just to build a school? Just how sick can you get?"

"Very, it seems," said Marcus, who was furiously typing away at his own laptop. "It's a wonder these people can actually not care about the environment and still be considered citizens of the Earth."

"Like I said, prime assbuttery put us in this mess, and it's up to us to get out of it," said Xion. "Marcus, how's the flyer coming along?"

"Magnificently," pronounced Marcus, swiveling his laptop/tablet screen around so everyone could see. The message on the flyer read, in a green graffiti-like print, "WE WILL NOT BE SILENCED!"

"If you like this one, you'll love this," said Marcus, opening up a second Word Doc containing a flyer with a different slogan: "ENVIRONMENTAL ABUSE IS BAD, JUST PLAIN MENTAL ABUSE IS WORSE. STOP THE PLANET KILLERS!"

"So, what's the plan?" asked Tim.

"We're going into the school and putting these flyers up, tonight," said Xion. "Don't worry, we'll be able to get in. Marcus, print fifty copies of each of those flyers, please. Never mind the ink wastage, my mom's already approved our little secret protest project and any expenses it incurs, 'and she's contacted her lawyer friends to get them involved with putting a stop to the Cyrus and Necker...regime. Is that the right word for it? Regime?"

"I'd say so, for sure," said Tara.

Twenty minutes later, armed with one hundred flyers to post on as many walls as possible, the seven kids walked through the front gate, which had been left unlocked. In front of them lay the office, with a single light on, illuminating the bluish-silver hair of Xion's father as he swept the floor. "Your dad's the night janitor?" asked Tim.

"It has its privileges," said Xion. "He's like a wacky morning DJ. You know, from that song, I forget what it's called, says democracy's a joke?"

"I know that one," said Ashley. "'Comfort Eagle,' by Cake. Great song. Maybe if we stage another performance we could play that one."

"That gives me an idea," said Xion, as Saix Claymore opened the office door and spoke to his daughter in French. "_Ah, Xion, t'es ici pour mettre les affiches sur les murs?_"

"_Oui, Papa,"_ said Xion.

"Come on in, then," said Saix in English. "I let you into the director's office." He ushered them in, unlocked the principal's door, and stood aside as Xion and Tim walked in to grab the blueprints from the desk.

"Absolutely no security," said Tim, as Xion scanned the blueprints on the copier/printer.

"I know," said Xion. "It almost feels too easy. But who cares? Hey, open up one of the flyers on my laptop, change it to say 'YOU KNOW WHERE TO FIND US.'"

"Will they know?"

"If they're gonna fight with us, they will," said Xion. "Where do the outcasts of this school go to play?"

Tim brightened. "The library."

"Exactly, said Xion. "Here, go put up these blueprint copies, I'll take care of the other fliers." Tim obeyed Xion's order, and walked around the school putting up the copies that displayed exactly how the Ojo de Cielo springs were sealed off back in the early seventies to make room for the school to be constructed. _Evidence against the man_, thought Tim. _You're in trouble now, boys_.

-October 18-

Thursday noon. No wind had blown this morning. Clearly, someone up there was aware that there was no display being set up by the Green Club today, so the weather plans were altered accordingly. In the library, the study tables were all taken up by a wide variety of kids who'd all been spurred to action by the flyers set up by the Green Club the night before.

Xion pointed through the wall, towards where Matthew Cyrus sat in his office, sweating through his suit as he tried to work out a plan to put a stop to the Green Club's campaign. "The man in that office," said Xion, "is a filthy, hypocritical, son of a bitch who is working to put a stop to a peaceful campaign by a school-sanctioned group, seemingly for no reason. But there actually is a reason, and it's a twisted one. He, like many administrators in this school, is attempting to cover up the environmental damage this school was built on, and also the psychological damage that those who are illegally disrupting our display, the Planet Killers, have subjected us to since Monday. Tara, if you will..."

Tara stood up next to Xion. "You know who I am. The Lethal Tomatoes keyboardist, the girl who cried when Mr. Necker verbally attacked me in front of the entire class. This unethical behavior is not being stopped by anyone who can, so it's up to us to stop it!"

Xion stretched to her full height. "That is why, tomorrow morning, we all are going to gather at 6:30 the way we did earlier this week. We've been threatened with suspension and expulsion, but now we have sheer strength in numbers. And, the district superintendent is visiting tomorrow. When we make our protest, our peaceful protest, and the Planet Killers try to stop us, they won't be able to without making themselves look like fools in front of Cyrus' boss. He can't suspend and expel us all, not if we stand together!" She started pumping her fist in the air with each sentence she spoke. "The windmill will return! The Lethal Tomatoes will play again! Cyrus and Necker will lose this war! We will fight! We will resist! WE! WILL! WIN!"

A loud cheer rose up to fill the entire library, as five hundred students and one librarian voiced their vehement approval of Xion's plan. _It's gonna work,_ said Tim. _Please God, let it work._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After school, Xion took Tim into the central room and led him to her locker, where she removed a basketball. She proceeded to accidentally-on-purpose drop it and, yelling "Hey! Hey! Look out! Excuse me!" she chased after it as it rolled into the center of the room. As Tim caught up to her, she whispered, "Normally, the ball would roll this way no matter where you are in the room. You know, towards the bay, the way the land declines. But watch this." She picked up the ball, carried it to the exact opposite side of the room, and let it go again. Once again it rolled directly into the center of the room - in exactly the opposite direction from where she said it would roll. "You see?" she said. "The springs are directly under the center of this room, and the floor slopes into it because of that."

Tim nodded. "Are you saying we should be doing this tomorrow when the superintendent comes?"

Xion laughed. "No. Those blueprints are everything we need." The bell rang. "Dammit, no more lunch. See you tomorrow, Timmy!" she said, tearing back to her locker to put her basketball away.

* * *

10pm. Tim was about to fall asleep when Axel asked him, "So, is it true that you and all those Green Clubbers are gonna stage a big protest, try to bring down the system and whatnot?"

Tim sat up. "Yep."

"Is it too late to join in the fun?" asked Axel.

"Of course not," said Tim. "But why do you want to? I can't remember the last time you ever wanted to support me in anything."

Axel sighed. "Yeah, don't get the wrong idea. I just wanna stick it into Martine Pinay's face. You know she's in with the Planet Killers, right? She actually tried to recruit me to join in with them the other day! Little bitch. Yeah, trick me into thinking I have a date with her and then ask me to help her out in the mission to eliminate the windmill. Riiiight," he drawled. "The point being, now she's gonna know you don't make that kind of mistake with me. She's not gonna forget this, I'm sure."

Tim rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, but he was too full of anticipation to really fall asleep.

* * *

Downstairs in the lab, Vexen had the TV turned on to channel three and the nightly news weather report. The meteorologist was going on about a very unusual pre-season cold front about to sweep in over the weekend and send temperatures plunging below freezing during the night, so he warned people to make sure their pets were indoors, and their plants were covered to protect them from the cold.

Linda Claymore walked in and was immediately distracted by the weather report. She turned to Vexen and said, "Getting ahead of ourselves a bit, are we?"

Vexen looked up at Linda. "At least I'm concentrating my powers in a believable way, not just creating a freak wind vortex over the school for an hour every day. You're doing it again tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," said Linda. "Xion's display does need to work, after all. We're very lucky it's just a bunch of teenagers, they never pay attention to anything around them anyway unless it has something to do with their own kind. And besides," she added, "I got your husband's approval before I started making the mini-storms."

"Forgive me, but I find that incredibly hard to believe," said Vexen.

"Well, believe it, sister," said Linda. "Isn't that what Ansem's always saying? Believe?"

"It's 'have faith,' actually," said Vexen huffily, "but I get your point. And what if this all backfires and our kids all get suspended and expelled?"

"Not a snowball's chance in hell of that happening," said Linda.

"Unless it's one of my snowballs," said Vexen.

"Then don't let it be one of your snowballs," said Linda.

"I won't." Vexen sighed, watched the weather for another two seconds, then asked, "And if my snowball melts anyway?"

Linda smiled. "No worries, Ansem's always got a backup plan ready."

* * *

-October 19-

At 6am, the Lethal Tomatoes, the Green Club and their supporters gathered en masse outside by the flagpole. There were so many of them, they ended up pouring out onto the driveway. Tim plugged his amp into the windmill, which continued to rotate in the wind. _Somebody's smiling on us today_, he thought.

Come 6:30 and the first wave of arriving students, the supporters were forced to part in order to admit the parents' cars. And then the second wave arrived, and some of the Planet Killers were enraged because they hadn't anticipated a performance. The tall goth girl yelled, "I forgot my damn picket sign!"

And sure enough, after about fifteen minutes, Mr. Cyrus tore out of his office, an enraged look of...rage...on his face. "What is the meaning of all this?" he yelled. "Break this up immediately! You're all gonna be suspended for this!"

"Excuse me, Matt?" The district superintendent had just arrived, and he looked around at the crowd. "What's going on here?"

Cyrus adjusted his tie nervously. "Superintendent!" he blurted. "So glad you're here, sir. I told these kids to put an end to their divisive display and they've blatantly disobeyed me. Look! Now I have to suspend, what, five hundred kids? Do you see what I've had to deal with all week?"

The superintendent waved him off. "Cut the crap, Matt. I've been following these events too. In fact, I've come here because of allegations that you've been allowing certain acts to go completely unpunished. I would like to hear the other side of this story." He turned to the flagpole. "The six students you summoned to your office on Wednesday. Come with me, please. Matt, your office, if you will."

Thoroughly flustered, Cyrus led the way through the gates, but not before yelling out, "This isn't over! The superintendent's gonna agree with me on this! You're all gonna get suspended! Or expelled! Either way, you're all punished! All of you!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The superintendent waited until everyone was seated (or, in the case of the Lethal Tomatoes, leaning against the wall, just the same way they had done on Wednesday morning) before he began. "Now," he said, "the way I understand it, you, Matt, approved of this little miniature windmill display that the Green Club put up at the base of the flagpole, and even approved the use of live music, to be powered by this windmill as a demonstration of green-friendly power. And yet, the windmill's presence led to some, shall we say, disproportionate retribution from a select group of students and one teacher. James Necker, is it?"

Cyrus nodded, turning steadily paler with every second word the superintendent spoke. _I hope he faints right here in his office_, Tim thought. _Then his embarrassment will be complete._

The superintendent continued. "Yes, I've heard so many complaints about Necker over his twelve years teaching here. His sense of humor...I'm afraid many parents have found him very offensive, especially the parents of Miss Claymore and Miss Willows here." He gestured first to Xion, then to Tara. "My apologies to the both of you on behalf of the district. So, when the Green Club organized a counter-demonstration to protest the unwanted verbal abuse they were suffering, you called them to your office and threatened them with even more disproportionate retribution. Disciplinary action, suspension and expulsion if they continued in their counter-protest. All because they were unhappy with the way they were being treated by those above them. I don't know about you, Matt, but I would call this tyranny. Wouldn't you agree?" The six kids nodded vigorously. "So you would say that this is what happened?" They nodded again.

The superintendent turned to Cyrus. "So, Matt, do you have any proof to say otherwise? Do you have proof that these Green Clubbers and Lethal Tomatoes were being intentionally disruptive? Do you have proof that they initiated this...fight?"

Cyrus spluttered before speaking, "Now, sir, these students were singing songs with explicit lyrics, and they were waving signs with inappropriate slogans written on them. If that's not intentionally inciting a riot, I don't know what is."

"But do you have proof to support your allegations?"

Cyrus sighed. "No."

"Well, then, guess you won't be able to punish these poor students after all," said the superintendent. "That's settled, then. But there's another matter I'm here to discuss with you. Have you seen these displays around your school?" He held up one of the copies of the blueprints. "If this document is to be believed, this school was intentionally built over a natural hot spring with no regard for the environmental ramifications. And now, forty years later, when your school's resident environmentalists are being intimidated out of their right to gather peacefully to promote their cause...I'm telling you, this does not look good for you."

Cyrus piped up, "Sir, you know me. Am I not pro-environment? Am I not a registered Green Party member?"

"But what is the public going to think if the full story gets out about this?" asked the superintendent. "The media machine is going to turn this against you. I'm sure you don't want to do that, especially if you believe a single word you just said. Personally, I don't. But I'm only one man. I'm not planning to fire you. Yet."

Cyrus sighed with relief. "Oh, thank you, sir."

"But, there is most certainly going to be someone fired from this school today." The superintendent exited the office and called for the office assistant. When the important-looking boy arrived, he said, "Could you go fetch Mr. Necker for me? I think he'll know why I want to see him."

"Right away," chirped the office assistant, as he left. The superintendent turned to the kids and said, "Well, it seems you're free to go. You do have classes to attend, I trust?"

They were only too happy to leave. As they made their way back into the main building, they watched the office assistant walk Mr. Necker towards the office.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to be the one to do this," said the office assistant.

"Suck it, Mr. Necker!" cried Tara. The Lethal Tomatoes and Green Clubbers exchanged high-fives as they entered the main building.

"Wahoo, Mountain Dew!" cried Bobby.

Marcus Ravenwood looked askance at Xion. "Remind me, who picked these clowns to work with us again?"

Xion laughed. "But they're talented clowns, you gotta admit. Hey, howsabout a little impromptu lunchtime concert? Indoors this time?"

"I'm down," said Tim. Ashley and Tara nodded their approval too. "Let's celebrate the slicing of Necker!"

"Morbid, but appropriate," said Marcus. "I'll spend my free period making the banner."

"Thank God it's Friday," cheered Ashley. "See you at lunch!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

While the Lethal Tomatoes staged their impromptu performance over lunch, Linda, Ansem, Vexen, and Braig watched and re-watched their hidden camera video of the superintendent's royal chewing-out of Cyrus, and also Necker. To them, it was the height of idiot comedy.

"You know, to be perfectly honest, I still can't believe any of that actually worked," said Linda.

"Agreed," said Braig. "There's absolutely no way that ever should have worked, in any known universe including our own. Then again, Ansem's plans are always like that. They really shouldn't ever work and yet they always do."

Ansem nodded. "Glad to see someone's having some faith around here." He clapped Braig on the shoulder, hard. Braig rubbed the spot tenderly, then turned back to his computer so he could continue running diagnostics on the preservation pod. _I'd really just rather code it to fail, _thought Braig. _But that would be a complete and utter disaster. All that expense spent for nothing. What a waste._

At this point, Vexen got up, removed her lab coat, and walked towards the elevator.

"Where are you going?" asked Linda.

"I'm doing what all good mothers should be doing this time of day," said Vexen. "Shopping. For food, and also for clothes. My sons don't have winter clothes warm enough to survive the freeze blast we're gonna be getting this weekend."

Braig looked up and frowned. "Freeze blast?"

"Didn't Ansem tell you about it?" asked Linda. "This weekend, Vexen arranged for a little early winter chill for all of us. All in the name of science, of course."

"Science?" asked Braig.

"The ice storm will be powerful enough to knock out power to much of the area," said Ansem. "But hopefully not to us in the lab. Otherwise, our plans are going to end up being...delayed."

"And if that happens?" asked Braig.

"Then it happens." Ansem's lips curled slightly. "No matter what, the In-Between will be opened. It doesn't even matter which day, although I am very partial to Halloween. So hopefully our power doesn't get affected by the storm. Otherwise, I might just have to ritually sacrifice Vexen here, to stave off their anger." He laughed at his own joke, as did the two women.

But not Braig. _I wouldn't put it past him to actually do just that. No siree._


End file.
